


Modesty Aside

by colazitron



Series: The Cheerleader Skirt Series [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis finds one of the cheerleaders' skirts lying around and remembers Harry's offhand comment about dressing as a cheerleader. Seems like a good idea to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modesty Aside

**Modesty Aside**

Louis tumbles over a piece of fabric that tangles around his ankles and almost crashes head first into the little area at the back of the wardrobe section that is used as a makeshift dressing room. And in this case makeshift really means makeshift. It basically consists of a curtain that one can try to hide behind but no one really respects, because they’ve all inadvertently walked in on each other changing loads of times before anyway. Mainly it hides you from the cameras. Louis can hear Harry’s delighted, cackling laughter somewhere behind him and is glad that he got over blushing because of things such as these a long time ago. Well, he’s not blushing too badly, at least.

“You were right, Tomlinson, you’re the most graceful person I’ve ever met,” Harry teases and Louis turns around to throw him a look that tells him exactly what he thinks of that statement. The thing is, Louis actually is pretty graceful most of the time. Except for the times when he’s not and then he’s spectacularly not, which is of course what people remember about him.

“Run off and find that blazer you’re so enamored with before the lads get here and one of them takes it,” Louis advises and Harry rolls his eyes in a way that clearly says “you just want me to leave so you can nurse your wounded pride in privacy”, but he really does love that blazer so he takes Louis’ advice anyway. It’s the first week they really get to basically make the decisions about what they’re wearing and what they’re singing and even a bit about the staging themselves and while they’re all excited, they’re also scared they’ll somehow screw it up. What Louis is mostly scared of is that they’ll get into some sort of squabble over something insignificant – like a blazer – that’ll destroy their chemistry, so he’s been subtly trying to avoid any and all kinds of situations like that. He really hopes Harry will find that damned blazer.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a striped t-shirt and even though stripes are usually not exactly Harry’s thing, it’d go well with what else he wants to wear, so Louis grabs it and takes it with him behind the curtain. He forgets the offending fabric that is still twisted around his feet for a moment and almost stumbles again, but catches himself just in time. Cursing under his breath, he bends down to pick the blue thing up. What is that even, a scarf? It’s far too tiny to be –

Oh.

It’s a skirt. A mini skirt, but a skirt. How the hell did that get in here?

Louis holds it up and scrutinizes it as he steps behind the curtain and drops the clothes he picked out for himself on the little stool in the corner. It seems somewhat familiar and his mind is racing through the last few weeks. Rebecca would have never worn this, it’s too girly and preppy for Treyc or Katie, he skips over Mary entirely – as much as he loves the woman, this is not a mental image he wants, ever – and Cher isn’t the type to wear frilly blue skirts either. Though she’d definitely have the legs to pull it off. So where has he seen this –

Oh.

_OH._

It’s from their own performance. It’s one of the cheerleader skirts from their “Kids in America” performance last weekend. It’s only been four days and yet it feels like an eternity to Louis and the Sunday evening in all its glory rushes back into his head and leaves him a little breathless. He’s definitely not regretting it, but it’s not really sunk in that he actually made out with Harry in their dressing room, either. How could it. Up until the past weekend Louis has never considered this and all of it has rather taken him by surprise. Him more so than Harry it sometimes seems to him.

He’s been trying to watch Harry like someone who wanted him would watch him, these past days, and mostly all he sees is still Harry; his slightly crazy, definitely talented and honestly rather fit but still just best mate, Harry.

He’s not entirely sure what came over him to even want to kiss him, much less actually do it, but it’s like now that he’s gone and done it, something in his vision has permanently shifted and he finds himself attracted to Harry more and more often. Harry and he will mess around, play-fighting for whatever insignificant thing and suddenly Louis will notice that Harry’s got him pinned to the floor and he actually kind of likes it. Or that he’s inadvertently pulled Harry’s head in close and he rather likes that too. Or even just the way Harry’s hair smells of shampoo most of the time because he uses dry shampoo. And then he’ll feel this tug low in his belly that he’s only ever associated with girls and the twinkle in Harry’s eyes looks like he knows exactly what Louis is thinking.

It’s really quite confusing to be honest.

And now he’s standing behind that curtain waiting for Harry to come back (with the blazer, hopefully), staring at the skirt and suddenly it hits him with so much force he actually feels himself sway a little. (This is getting so out of hand, he decides in the back of his head.)

He remembers his arm casually thrown around Harry’s shoulders and Harry leaning into it. He remembers Niall ogling the dancers somewhere near the stage and the camera that was pointed at Harry and him and the obligatory “so, boys, what can we expect from you this week?”. He remembers saying how there was something different that week and that it could be very distracting and the solemn way Harry and he had looked at each other and nodded like they were imparting great words of wisdom. And then Harry had turned back to the camera and said, _“I’m dressed as a cheerleader,”_ and suddenly Louis finds his head swimming with images of Harry actually dressed as a cheerleader. Because this shade of blue could actually work on Harry and he’s got a pretty nice pair of legs on him.

“Why the hell are you staring at a mini skirt?” Harry suddenly breaks him out of his hormone induced daydreams. He’s stepped behind the curtain to join Louis and the older boy vaguely notices that he did find the blazer (good) and is dropping it on top of Louis’ own clothes before turning back to him, lifting an expectant eyebrow. But Louis finds himself unable to answer because what if Harry were wearing that skirt right now? Louis could hoist him up and press him against the back wall and he’d actually feel his naked thighs. Or he could just reach up under the skirt and press his hand in between Harry’s legs and meet cotton and not denim and good God, he wasn’t even aware he wanted that but suddenly he feels like maybe he really, really does.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, his expectant expression shifting into something mildly concerned and mainly weirded out and Louis bunches the skirt up in one hand and pushes it against Harry’s chest and the younger boy into the back wall like that. His second hand comes up to grab a fist full of curls before he clashes their mouths together. Harry makes a muffled sound of surprise but winds his arms around Louis’ neck and yields and he feels so soft right now that Louis wants to sink his teeth into him and leave a mark just because he suddenly feels like he probably could. Like Harry would let him.

Instead he pushes the hoodie Harry is wearing up and reveals a soft, worn, grey Jack Wills cotton t-shirt underneath. There’s some sort of college league football number print on the front, just like on most of the t-shirts Harry owns and Louis’ minds helpfully supplies how lovely this would go with the skirt he just dropped to the floor.

“Louis, what-” Harry tries to ask as Louis wrenches the hoodie off over his head before assaulting his mouth again. But so far Harry’s not complaining, so Louis’s not stopping. The vision of Harry in that skimpy little skirt won’t leave him and Louis crowds the other boy against the wall, pressing his entire body in close and relishing in the way Harry welcomes him there. Harry’s arms are still wound around his neck and he scrapes his nails over Louis’ scalp, tugging at his hair a little. Louis swallows a groan at that and lets his own hands trail down Harry’s sides and tug him forward by hooking his fingers into the waistband of his jeans. Harry makes an appreciative noise and decisively rubs his crotch against Louis’. Louis feels a smile he wasn’t expecting tugging at his lips. It separates his mouth from Harry’s, but he just breathes against his mouth and traces a teasing finger along the outline of Harry’s belt buckle. Harry makes a noise that’s definitely not opposed to the proceedings and catches Louis’ lips again, so Louis lets himself be kissed and concentrates on getting that belt open before pulling back slightly and falling to his knees.

He lifts one of Harry’s feet so suddenly that Harry has to steady himself by gripping his shoulder. He pulls off one shoe and Harry lifts his foot for Louis to pull of the other. Louis reaches up to grab his jeans and their gazes lock as Louis yanks them down. Harry bites his lips in a way that’s far too enticing to be accidental and Louis pushes his face against Harry’s now naked thigh and bites at the flesh lightly while Harry steps out of the trousers. Once that’s done, Harry reaches for Louis' head and tugs at his hair to get him to stand back up, but Louis stays crouched at his feet and reaches for the skirt.

“Louis?” Harry asks silently, a little uncertain and staring down at him.

“Just go with it?” Louis pleads, one hand curled around one of Harry’s calves, the other one clutching the blue piece of fabric. “Please?”

Harry still looks a little doubtful, but lifts first one foot and then the other, letting Louis guide his legs into the skirt. Pressing a kiss to each knee, Louis stands back up, dragging the fabric up over Harry’s legs and pulling up the zipper when it sits on his waist. It’s a rather tight fit, even though Harry’s waist is pretty narrow. Louis presses a kiss into his lips before taking a step back, letting his eyes rake over Harry and drinking in his appearance.

“Fuck,” Louis whispers and watches a smirk spread out over Harry’s lips as his leans back against the wall, hips cocked to one side, shoulders to the other. He raises a hand and makes a show of averting his face – putting his neck on display perfectly – and ‘self-consciously’ biting his finger. His lips are already a little swollen from the way Louis has accosted them earlier and it only makes them look more appealing now. Something that Harry is without a doubt aware of. He sends Louis a not at all shy _come hither_ look from under his fringe and Louis feels a little ridiculous but mostly just turned on as he surges forward to kiss Harry again.

This time he does grab hold of Harry’s thighs and hoist him up against the wall. Harry responds by wrapping his legs around Louis’ mid-section and his arms around his shoulders, holding on and never once breaking their kiss. Louis feels a rush of affection at Harry trusting him so implicitly that he didn’t even flinch when Louis picked him up and he pulls back to brush their noses together briefly.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathes and kisses the answering smile off of Harry’s face before pushing his crotch into Harry’s. It’s easy to feel how hard Harry is now and Louis can’t say that this doesn’t weird him out at all but mostly it’s breathtaking to know that he has this effect on the younger boy. That all he has to do is undress him and kiss him and Harry responds like this. He pushes Harry against the wall a little harder, pressing one thigh forward to use as additional support and slides a hand up along Harry’s leg, over his bum (which he can’t help but squeeze and, man, he’s doing that again soon) and in between his legs.

At that Harry does make a surprised sort of sound, but doesn’t protest. The angle is extremely awkward and Louis can feel his arms begin to strain against Harry’s weight, but Harry is also sixteen and really horny right now. So Louis pushes forward with his body and gets his hand somehow where it’s supposed to go, massaging the hardened flesh sharply. Harry wrenches his mouth away from Louis’ and leans his head backwards, pressing his lips together in an effort to be quiet and Louis loves that apparently Harry is usually loud. He vaguely notes that he wants to test that theory at some point, but right now concentrates on getting Harry off as quickly as possible. Latching on to his neck and licking and biting every piece of skin he can reach, he can hear the tiny hitches in Harry’s breath that give him away and then suddenly Harry locks up, clamps his legs around him tighter and Louis feels his hand become slightly damp. Harry lets out a shuddery breath and Louis slowly puts him back down, surreptitiously cracking his fingers to get the feeling in them back.

“Christ, this really turns you on,” Harry whispers, his eyes still slightly glazed and an almost overwhelmed expression on his face. Louis can feel his face heating up but there’s absolutely no use denying it, because it’s very obvious from the bulge straining his sweat pants that this is very much turning him on.

“C’mon then,” the younger boy encourages, taking Louis’ hands in his and pulling them around himself, letting them settle on his butt. Then he leans in to kiss Louis again and roughly shoves one hand down the front of his trousers, palming at the obvious erection. Louis lets his hands trail lower to toy with the hem of the skirt and with his eyes closed it feels really weird; Harry’s lower half feels like a girl, while the chest pushed against his is definitely a boy’s. Harry sinks his teeth into Louis’ lower lip and tugs at it, pressing his hand into Louis’ hard-on insistently and Louis feels his orgasm overtake him in a rush.

“Harry? Louis?” they can suddenly hear Niall call out and they jump apart like stung, each frantically trying to smooth their clothes and hair out and it’s when Harry’s hands smooth down the skirt that their gazes meet and lock and they burst out giggling. They fall back into each other, leaning on each other for support, the whole ridiculousness of the situation suddenly catching up with them. They just got each other off in the wardrobe department of the x-factor studios. This had to be the stupidest and most exciting thing they’d ever done.

“You alright?” Niall asks, pulling back the curtain and looking at them a little strangely. Liam is stood behind him.

“Harry, mate, you know you can’t wear that on stage, right?” Liam teases, when he catches sight of the skirt and Harry wiggles his eyebrows at Louis and the two of them burst into laughter again.

“Seriously though, why are you wearing this?” Niall asks and Harry shakes his head and holds up a hand, trying to reign in his giggles enough to answer them.

“Vas appenin?” Zayn slings an arm around Niall’s and Liam’s shoulders each, looking at the spectacle curiously. Harry has caught himself by now, only a giant grin splitting his face, while Louis is still wracked by silent giggles, his shoulders shaking, his hands pressed against his mouth in an attempt to… he doesn’t even know.

“Louis found this skirt lying around and didn’t believe me I could pull it off,” Harry shrugs like this is all business as usual – which it would be, Louis has to admit, if that were what had happened.

“Suffice to say I proved him wrong,” he goes on to explain and then turns around to wiggle his bum in his friends’ faces, who all burst out laughing as well.

“Very cute,” Zayn concedes and Niall shakes his head laughing.

“You still can’t wear it on stage,” Liam insists and laughs again at Harry’s exaggerated pout.

“Listen, have you already found something though?” he then turns the conversation back around to something more serious.

“Yeah. We were just about to try it on, when this happened,” Louis answers, finally calm enough to speak and gesticulating vaguely in Harry’s direction. It’s not even technically a lie. It’s just that what happened is nothing like what the other boys are imagining.

“Okay. We’ll look around and come join you in a bit,” Liam nods and turns around, Zayn grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him towards _“a jacket that would totally work for you, man”_. Niall shoots them a grin, before taking off as well and for a moment, Harry and Louis just stand there. Then Louis pulls the curtain shut again and takes Harry’s face in his hands, planting a wet kiss on his mouth.

“You are brilliant,” he says and steps back, because if he doesn’t this is all going to start all over again.

“Are you implying you ever thought I wasn’t?” Harry teases and reaches for the zipper on the skirt.

“Of course not,” Louis answers and almost wants to turn away to give Harry some privacy; which is ridiculous considering what just happened and that even before that he’s seen Harry change loads of times. Harry bunches the skirt up and bends down to shove it into his hoodie pocket. Louis raises an interested eyebrow.

“Well, if they didn’t miss it the past few days, they’re not gonna suddenly go look for it now,” he explains, grinning up at Louis. “So I’m keeping it.”

The heat in his eyes is unmistakable and Louis thinks he might just be a tiny bit in love with this boy.

****

The End


End file.
